


Your Hands

by captain_shitpost



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Absolutely none of the Papyri are neurotypical or mentally healthy, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Drug Dealing, Heavy shit with also fun shennanigans, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-Poly, Recreational Drug Use, Referenced pregnancy, Self-Esteem Issues, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Undyne was banned from most shopping malls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 11:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17579843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_shitpost/pseuds/captain_shitpost
Summary: Papyrus has felt very alone after coming to the surface. It feels like his brother, his old friends, and all the other monsters have moved on and found happiness, while he's still lost. One day, he meets two versions of himself that make him feel accepted, and slowly learns to accept himself and his place in the world, and in their lives.Aka the story of how Papyrus grew up and found happiness.





	Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to write a polypapyrus fic because I'm a slut for Pap on Pap on Pap action. Also I wanted to explore some areas of growing up, dealing with mental illnesses, navigating poly relationships etc.

“Sans, did you finish your dinner already???” Papyrus called from the kitchen, noticing his brother was already in the hallway. He’d only put out the plates of steaming-hot spaghetti a minute ago, but Sans’ plate was already spotless.

“yeah bro, the food was great,” Sans answered, putting his cellphone in his pocket. He grinned over his shoulder. “i’m going out, don’t wait up. have fun, paps.”

“Of course! Have fun, brother!!!” Papyrus said, beaming. He went to wave him off but Sans was out the door before he could even raise his hand properly. With the door clicking shut, the house was quiet once again. Papyrus took a deep breath, let it out, then turned to collect the plates, one empty and one still full. He stuck the uneaten spaghetti in the fridge, covered with plastic foil, and chucked all the dirty dishes into the sink. He wasn’t all that hungry, after all.

Sans didn’t stay at the table for even five minutes today. Another evening they barely talked to each other. He remembered fondly the days they were Underground. Sure, Sans had been miserable nearly all the time and would just laugh it off and change the subject whenever Papyrus asked about it, but at least they spent time together.

He squirted soap with a little too much vigor onto the sponge, then got to work scrubbing the used plates and pots. Selfish. He was so selfish. His brother was smiling these days and most of those smiles were actually real, and the dark lines underneath his sockets were a thing of the past. It was so selfish to want to go back to the time his brother was so sad just because he wanted him around more.

He scrubbed, rinsed and dried the dishes, quick and methodical. He hated dragging his feet while doing chores, but he regretted doing them so fast when he put the last plate in its rightful place in the cupboard. He turned around and faced the empty house. He could hear the clock ticking in the living room and the distant sounds of traffic, but otherwise he was completely alone.

Was there anything else to do? He had today and tomorrow off from work, and all the chores were done. Some twice. Sans was going out somewhere and having fun with someone that wasn’t Papyrus and he absolutely wouldn’t ruin that for him. Undyne and Alphys have gotten serious about each other and these days he always felt like he was getting in their way. He liked doctor Alphys, and Undyne was his bestie!!! But ever since they got to the surface Papyrus has had a hard time looking Undyne in the eye, knowing she lied to him about becoming a Royal Guard. He forgave her, of course. He was very forgiving. But there was still an itchy patch on his soul that made him want to look away whenever their eyes met.

He took out his cellphone and eyed the time, noting how late it was. He thought of calling Frisk, but they were still young and young humans apparently needed their sleep, if that one scolding from Toriel was to be believed. Between their job as an ambassador and getting an education, Papyrus hadn’t hung out with Frisk in well over 4 months, despite their occasional texting. He wasn’t so close to Asgore or Toriel to call them for a casual hang-out, and anyways they both rarely went out this late. He didn’t know anyone else closely enough to have their numbers, apart from his boss. And despite his own magnificence, his boss seemed a bit less than enthusiastic about him.

He put the phone away, sitting heavily on the couch. Everyone was loving the surface and perfectly happy. All without him. His sockets stung suddenly, and he blinked fast and breathed hard and looked at the cracks on the ceiling he needed to paint over until the feeling passed. There were always chores to redo, there was no need to sit on a couch, alone and crying like he was still a babybones. He went to the bathroom to grab the bucket under the sink and a cloth. Sure, he might have already washed the windows today, but it wouldn’t _hurt_ them to get a second wash, right?

Somewhere between filling the bucket with water and getting the soap, his resolve evaporated like the fog off the bathroom mirror. He was sick of this. Even he couldn’t lie to himself this much. He was so fucking _sick_ of this. He couldn’t take another damn night of sitting at home and pretending he wasn’t lonely and miserable.

He was moving on autopilot, not really thinking about it until he was wearing his boots and had his keys and wallet in his pockets. He hesitated, wanting to leave his cellphone behind, but tucked it in anyways. It’s not like anyone called him much these days, and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if something happened and he didn’t help just because he didn’t have his phone. He was about to leave when he remembered Sans would arrive home sometime and might wonder where he was. Papyrus didn’t know what to say. He just wanted to be as far away from the house as possible, but he had no reason to be outside.

He grabbed a post-it note, hesitating over it with his favourite glitter gel pen. With a brief feeling of unease, he wrote his note and stuck it to the center of the table, where Sans would see it.

_“BROTHER!!! I HAVE BEEN INVITED TO UNDYNE AND DOCTOR ALPHYS_ _’ HOUSE FOR A SLEEPOVER PARTY! NO NEED TO WORRY, FOR I AM PERFECTLY SAFE AND MOST LIKELY WATCHING KIDDY CARTOONS WITH THEM!!! I LEFT THE EXTRA SPAGHETTI IN THE FRIDGE!_

_NYEHFULLY YOURS,_

_PAPYRUS_ _”_

With a deciseful nod, Papyrus marched through the door and, after locking it behind him, jogged towards the city. The neighborhood was quiet at this hour, though to be fair it was quiet at all hours, and the peaceful air just made him feel more alone.

One foot in front of the other helped him push back the guilt he felt, hiding things from Sans. He’d been doing it for years, in many, many ways, but he still always felt that niggling sensation in his ribcage when his brother smiled at him. Thankfully, with his brother’s high image of him he never actually doubted what Papyrus said, so unless Sans became buddy-buddy with Undyne he’d never suspect his white lie.

The traffic slowly became thicker and the noise louder as he passed from the low suburban houses into the city center’s apartment buildings. He was careful to avoid the area of the monster stores and restaurants, trying to evade questions from people he knew. He never left the house this late, the last thing he wanted to deal with were nosy neighbors or possibly Sans or Undyne having a night out. Especially not if Undyne decided to go out and didn’t invite him. They’d both feel so awkward, and it was better to side-step the entire issue.

He looked around. There was a surprising amount of people outside, both humans and monsters. He still had trouble telling the ages of humans, but by the way they were dressed they were probably teenagers or young adults. He never knew the city got so crowded at this hour. He passed a group of five humans, laughing and pushing each other in play. They seemed to be having fun, full of the kind of energy you got when you were heading towards a good time. He turned away from them quickly and moved on.

He noticed many of the humans had alcohol with them, drinking before they went to a club or something. Papyrus was 20 years old and he’d never gone out to party like that before. The only parties he’d been to were a single costume party which he spent holding his drink to his chest and watching Sans make people laugh, and several birthday parties that always ended early due to Frisk needing their sleep. Undyne tried to drag him out to a club once but he refused, partly from telling himself he had chores to do and partly from the unfamiliarity of the situation, and she never invited him again. He always subtly hoped she would, but no.

He wasn’t being very fair towards her, was he? He was the one that rejected her first. It was his own fault she took him at his word and backed off. It would be childish to expect her to read his mind.

He wondered what it was like to get drunk. He had never gotten drunk before, despite trying a few alcohols himself, but Undyne loved retelling all the stories of her getting “sloshed” and throwing up in graphic detail. He was both disgusted and curious, especially since it seemed so popular to do. Then he remembered he wasn’t legal yet and decided against it. He refused to go to jail over something like that. Did people go to jail for underage drinking anyways?

He stopped in the middle of a square, right in front of a fountain with a statue of a human with a fish tail instead of legs. This situation was quickly turning out to be silly. Was he really going to walk around all night? He had finally had enough of loafing around the house and went out, wanting to live a little, but he had absolutely no idea what _he_ wanted to do, only what most people his age might find interesting and what might be considered cool. But if he learned anything, it was that trying to be cool didn’t get you much in life. Some people just _were_ cool, popular and beloved, and some weren’t, despite their best efforts. Forcing yourself to be something your not just made you seem pathetic.

He looked around steadily, trying to get an idea going. What did he want to try out? A quick turn on his heel, then another, until he noticed a little shop tucked in between two closed clothing stores. He figured since nearly everyone out and about was going in he might as well and entered, marveling at the long line of humans inside. He stood in line, raptly watching the humans-and occasional monster-exit the store with a six-pack or pack of cigarettes in their hands. He wondered if it was even possible for a skeleton to smoke.

He blinked when the shopkeeper coughed, realizing with embarrassment it was his turn. He froze, trying to think of what he even wanted to buy. Why did he even enter the store in the first place?!

“Er-can I have a pack of cigarettes?” he exclaimed, asking for the first thing that popped into his head as his cheekbones heated up. The shopkeeper lifted their pierced eyebrow.

 “Can I see some ID?” they drawled. Papyrus scrambled to get his driving license out of his wallet. He felt like everyone in the store was watching him, and the attention almost made him drop his wallet.

He breathed deeply to calm down, handing his ID over. He was old enough to buy cigarettes legally, there was absolutely no reason to freak out like this. The shopkeeper looked at the ID, then at him, then swept down his body. They gave his ID back with the same expression of condescending pity his neighbors talked to him with, so Papyrus pushed down the scream stuck in his throat and put on his winning smile.

“Which ones?” they asked. Papyrus hesitated, watching the wall behind them, stocked full of different looking cartons. He pointed at a random one, hoping he didn’t make the wrong choice. The shopkeeper handed him his pack, and on Papyrus’ request gave him a lighter too, a pretty bright orange one. Papyrus thanked them after paying and turned away, but their expression stayed clear in his mind.

He exited the shop feeling as defeated as he did when Sans left today. He looked at his purchase, wondering idly if his brother would notice his clothes smelling like cigarette smoke. He opened the pack and put one in his mouth, lighting the tip with his new lighter like he’d seen in the movies. He wondered if he looked suave.

He took a drag, smoke exiting through his sockets and making them burn. He rubbed at them, then at his nasal cavity. Wowie, that stung. He took another drag as he set off, choosing a group of human and monster chatting loudly to follow from a generous distance. They seemed like they were having fun. Maybe he’d have fun by osmosis.

They kept tottering on until they reached a building, the music inside audible at a distance and the ground faintly vibrating from the bass. Papyrus looked at the ugly exterior, then the long queue in front of it. The muscled human at the door was checking people’s ID’s, and the sign next to him on the wall said it was a 21+ club. Papyrus was pretty sure some of the monsters there were younger than that, but he wasn’t certain what would happen if he tried to enter and his ID showed his real age. Would they just tell him no? Or was this something that could get him in trouble with the police? He really wished he knew what the surface laws were.

He walked to the side of the building, where there were damp steps filled with people sitting and smoking, chatting and laughing. He walked to the topmost step and sat down, listening to the music that was loud enough to enjoy even outside the building. He took another drag before realizing his cigarette had burned down and he’d only had a few puffs, so he stomped it out on his sole with a soft curse. He picked up the butt to throw it away, but there were no trash cans in sight. The humans were flicking them on the floor and Papyrus sneered at the sight. Disgusting. He had half a mind to get up and start cleaning the steps.

Except then everyone would look at him and think he’s an idiot. He already saw the couple sitting next to him stealing glances at him and whispering jokes to each other. He subtly slipped the cigarette butt into his unused back pocket, grimacing in disgust. He’d need to wash his pants again when he came back home. He lit up another cig, inhaling deeply and trying not to cry at the stinging in his sockets. God, why did people do this? It felt awful, and it wasn’t even relaxing the way he thought it would be, apart from giving him something to do with his hands.

“You know you’re doing it wrong, right?” came a voice from his side, and Papyrus whipped around to see a man sitting down next to him with a huff, badly illuminated by the lights from the club entrance farther away. It was unnerving. He was pretty good at sensing people approach and it was difficult to startle him, but this person was so quiet he managed to sneak up on him. Papyrus shifted in his seat, angling slightly away from but also turning towards him.

“Doing what wrong?” he asked. The person chuckled, shoulders shaking underneath his orange hoodie. It was hard to see in the odd lighting, but his face didn’t look human at first glance.

“Take a drag, then hold it in. Then take another deep breath so it gets into your ribcage,” the stranger explained, his voice somewhat monotonous yet perfectly enunciated. Papyrus looked at his cigarette, then did as he was told. The instant he took the second breath he felt a strong burning in his chest and started to cough loudly, more smoke streaming through his sockets in a sudden puff. Holy hell, that was even more awful than before!

The stranger next to him started full-out laughing, wheezy and loud, hunched over as his body shook. Papyrus’ face heated up in shame. Seems he embarrassed himself again-in front of a stranger, no less. He sat there watching them slowly calm down, quiet and still until he turned his head to the side to look him eye-to-eye.

Or socket-to-socket, as the case was. Papyrus blinked once, stupidly, as he realized slowly that the stranger was a skeleton. It took him another moment to realize they had the same face, lines under his sockets and shit-eating grin aside. A slightly off mirror image, painfully familiar yet moving wrong. It was uncanny to meet one’s alternative from another universe.

Papyrus was surprised but not shocked. He knew something odd happened when they left the Underground 2 years ago, because for some reason there were doubles and triples or even four versions of the same monsters leaving the underground right along with them. Papyrus had no idea how this happened, why there were no less than 4 Asgores or why some of the monsters seemed to switch roles in comparison to others or some became more violent, but at some point he accepted it as fact. He even met Undyne’s counterpart when he went shopping with her once, the even scarier fish monster taking one look at his Undyne and attacking her. They got banned from the store for life and had to pay for property damages, but an hour later the two were chatting over snacks and having a blast. He was pretty sure they kept in touch, though he never saw the other Undyne again.

He had never met his own counterparts though. This stranger had the same face and same body, but his posture was awful in comparison to Papyrus’ own, and his clothes were a lot scruffier and casual. He looked…oddly cool. Like he didn’t care that people might judge him on how he dressed.

The other monster reached out slowly, plucked the cigarette right out of Papyrus’ hand, then took a deep drag. He held it for a moment, then let out two wobbly smoke rings before blowing the rest out. “See? Easy. Don’t even need lungs for it,” he said with a wink, handing the cigarette back to Papyrus, missing his hand a bit before handing it off successfully. Not surprising, given that he smelled strongly of alcohol. Papyrus took another drag, coughing as his eyes watered. It wasn’t quite as bad this time, since he was prepared.

The other skeleton shoved his hand into his hoodie pocket and extracted an old, crumpled box of cigarettes. He took a hand-rolled one out, meticulously closing the box again and stashing it back into place. “So what do they call you, sugar?”

Papyrus blinked. “Well, pretty much everyone just calls me Papyrus! Or The Tall Skeleton! Or That Guy Over There. But I guess you already knew that. I don’t really have a nickname,” he answered. The other skeleton nodded, brow bones furrowing as he tapped himself down.

“Heh, same. Ended up going with Stretch and now only my brother still calls me Papyrus. Wasn’t a huge fan of the nickname, but once Edge’s bro started using it everyone else picked it up and, well. Now I’m stuck with it,” he explained, finally pulling out a lighter with a triumphant hum. “Edge got his name the same way, except he’ll never admit he likes it, the big nerd. Red has a way with shitty nicknames.”

“Who’s Edge? And who’s Red?” Papyrus asked, wrinkling his face at the smoke coming off from Stretch’s cigarette. It smelled different than the ones he had. Sharper and deeper, somehow.

He heard a rapid clack of heels on cement coming in their direction, so he looked up and only had a second to register another skeleton coming their way before the stranger snatched the cigarette from Stretch’s hand. “What the fuck did I tell you about smoking weed when you’ve been drinking? You think I’m gonna hold your head above the toilet for 3 hours again, ashtray?!”

Stretch smiled, seeming pretty relaxed in the face of a yelling skeleton wearing high-heeled boots, leather and a glare that could curdle milk. He glanced back at Papyrus and waved grandly at the newcomer. “This is Edge. He’s also a Papyrus. Pretty chill dude, as you can see.”

The new skeleton-Edge-snorted with an impressive amount of contempt. “I’d be more chill if I wasn’t babysitting a grown-ass adult. Such is my lot in life, I suppose. Cleaning after slobs and trying to keep them alive,” the skeleton grumbled. Then he looked at Papyrus. “Found another one, I see. What’s your name?”

“It’s Papyrus!” he exclaimed, a sudden feeling of shame in his stomach. Of course this guy knew his name is Papyrus, it was plainly obvious who he was. Now they would think he was stupid too. The grumpy skeleton raised his brow at his answer. It made Papyrus feel remarkably similar to that time the teacher called on him in class when he was a babybones and he hadn’t heard the question, the way she scolded him with a little smile. The way his classmates giggled. “I-I don’t have a nickname yet!!!” he exclaimed, a little too loud and too fast. The skeleton kept his brow raised, the one in the hoodie looking at him neutrally. They must be thinking of how weird he is. Definitely.

“Well, we can think of a nickname for you at some point. I suppose it’s not too important, since we don’t go by our own names much,” Edge said, shrugging as he looked to the side. “It’s nice to meet you. Finally, an iteration of me that can dress in clean clothes and has a working sense of style. _Thank_ you. Really. I was losing hope for the Papyrus name.”

Papyrus blinked. Did this skeleton…approve of him? That couldn’t be right. He made a fool of himself. He looked down at his clothes while the two other skeletons started bickering about fashion. He did polish his battle body every day. It wasn’t real armor, of course, but he maintained it well and it was a gift from his brother. It had too much sentimental value to throw out, so he learned to take good care of it. He knew people made fun of his outfit, even though he loved it. Did this Edge guy find it…cool?

“Hey, you wanna ditch this place?” Stretch asked, startling him out of his musings. He stared at him, blinking once in confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Stretch put his arms above his head, spine popping in an almost obscene way. Papyrus looked away, the display a little too much for him, meeting Edge’s gaze as he also glanced away. “We were gonna go drink somewhere more quiet. Muffet’s probably, since Grillby 2 isn’t working. You wanna come with?” Stretch asked.

Papyrus gaped at them. They were asking him to hang out? To a friendly outing?! He’d never had one with anyone apart from Undyne and Frisk! Certainly never with someone his own age that didn’t turn out to be a huge liar! He jumped to his feet, fists clenched in front of his body and leaning forward, feeling excitement raging in his soul. “Of course! I wanna come! We can have a very cool hangout, like 3 very cool skeletons!!!” he put his hand on his hip, the other at his ribcage. “We can talk about our lives, our jobs, our hatred towards badly concepted puzzles! It will be a blast! Hopefully not a literal one, I’m not allowed into public parking anymore.”

The two skeletons stared at him, then glanced at each other. Papyrus was confused when Stretch smirked smugly at Edge with his brows wiggling, as if telling him something with the look. Edge just rolled his eyes, impressive for someone that had no eyeballs, and sighed. “Alright, let’s get going. I could use another drink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Fighting and shouting above,  
>  Bursting apart like a landmine,  
> Everything seems to uncork and fester like wine. ___  
> ~[Your Hands, by Michael Malarkey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n4H20VusYEs)

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my day!


End file.
